


One True Vessel

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Outlast (Video Games), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Mental Institutions, Samifer - Freeform, Samifer Week 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2496113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The patients near the ward mumble and murmur in fear of the one who prowls through the ward. They whisper of a ‘Lucifer’ looking for his ‘one true vessel'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	One True Vessel

**Author's Note:**

> Outlast DLC x Supernatural Crossover for Samifer Week 2014
> 
> **Samifer Week 2014:** Horror, macabre, southern gothic, etc. 

Sam crouches behind a desk, more than disturbed at the tableau displays of human bodies littered across the ward. The area reeks of blood and the savage artistry left on these modified bodies leaves him nauseous. Sam would love nothing more than to turn back and head out to the yard, but his exit out of this facility is through this ward. Employed as a software engineer for YHWH Corporations, who professes to be a charitable organization, Sam finds himself fighting for his life to get out. YHWH Corporations has taken to experimenting on the mentally ill. Taking over and reopening a mental health hospital, it beckoned for the vulnerable to come to its doors with the promise of affordable and effective treatment. The families never appear to question the status of their loved one and if they do, YHWH Corporations has more than enough power to shut them up. 

Sam never sees or truly hears of the ongoings of the corporation. His talents lie behind the scenes, only hearing scant rumors and not quite understanding the medical jargon being utilized. Every patient is subjected to the visual form of the ARCHANGEL Project. It’s the continuous images of the individual’s fears, forcing a state of fight-or-flight, overworking the brain and body. Those who have shown a considerable amount of trauma in their lives are selected to go into the machine (dubbed “The Cage” by the staff due to its appearance). Hormones and drugs are pumped into their bodies as they view the visual portion, the machine inciting a form of lucid dreaming. He has listened to the staff sigh to themselves, commenting on the neuron death with these patients and how being strapped into the machine has led to tumors in all of its occupants. The machine is whittling away at their brains while forcing them to regurgitate and relive their trauma, fueling and controlling something that Sam has yet to figure out.

The Winchester has never seen the machine at work on an actual individual. Attempting to fix a little hiccup in the system, he watches and listens in horror a patient addressed as ‘Nick’ being dragged into the machine. Blue eyes found him, spotting Sam as an anomaly in the environment of hazmat suits and guns, begging him to help him. Pleading and screaming for help, Sam frozen in place, the patient is silenced with brute force. 

Sam remembers the mess of blond hair and the broad shoulders, taller than the guards that are roping him back in. He remembers watching the skin on his face become inflamed on the monitors, mouth and nostrils shoved with tubes and forced to view the images flashing before him. He remembers the staff members at the control panel instructing him to leave, his services no longer needed for the moment.   Sam has kept his mouth shut, going through the motions and gritting his teeth. YHWH is nothing but a company breeding chaos and now it’s rampant and wild. Patients who have undergone the brutal “treatment” under YHWH’s hands have been stripped of their humanity, filling something worse in its stead. Now they wander around terrified and aggressive, taking this moment of freedom to attack the staff that have abused them. Sam is already broken and worn from his mad race out of the mental hospital. With a small camcorder in hand to see through the dark, he begins to move from behind the desk.

The brunette knows he’s not alone. He’s been hearing footsteps in the distance and there is the soft sound of music to his right. The patients near the ward mumble and murmur in fear of the one who prowls through the ward. They whisper of a ‘ _Lucifer_ ’ looking for his ‘ _one true vessel._ ’ The Winchester is getting the impression the bodies he ran into before were those who failed to fulfill the role as the ‘ _one true vessel._ ’ 

Sam can already feel his heart race in his chest, struggling to keep the camcorder steady as he pushes through. There is a heavy layer of dust in the room, the light peeking through the boarded windows only illuminating patches of the cluttered room. Sam is forced to rely on the camcorder, switching it on night vision as he navigates his way through the room. The footsteps are gone, the room filled with only his shallow breathing and feet brushing against the debris. It only serves to make the Winchester nervous, jumping at his own shadow.

Slowly making his way through the area, he spots a door leading to the next room. Peeking through the glass of the door to see if anyone is on the other side, he moves the camcorder down to test the door. It’s locked. Lifting the camcorder up — 

“ _Darling._ ” 

Sam stumbles back at the face staring at him from the other side of the door. Fingers are pressing against the window, the night vision on the camcorder casting a macabre appearance on the stranger. Eyes shine brightly, surrounded by dried blood and deteriorating flesh. Open sores are casted as dark splotches under the camcorder’s gaze, lips pulled into an easy smile. Sam takes another step back, squinting at the figure on the other side of the door. Before he can make out more, the stranger on the other side of the door walks off to his right. Sam stays still until he realizes that the stranger is making his way around towards him, hearing footsteps and the wooden floor beneath them groaning. 

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit!_

“Did I frighten you?” the stranger calls out, voice close as Sam scurries for another way out. “I’m awfully sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

Sam crouches down and carefully attempts to crawl underneath a table. Boxes and debris stand as a shield in front of it, the Winchester hissing in distress at his long limbs, desperately trying to tuck himself underneath. He ends up hugging his legs close to his chest. 

“We’ve met before haven’t we?” the stranger asks and Sam gets the impression that this must be the ‘Lucifer’ the other patients were speaking of. The Winchester squints through the spaces between the debris, sucking in the air loudly when he sees a pair of legs enter his line of sight. Carefully he holds up the camcorder, staring at a green-tinted world. “I know I’ve seen your face…” he trails off pensively, pausing to glance about him. 

Sam recognizes the messy head of blond hair and broad shoulders. Nick. The brunette winces sympathetically at the deteriorated face the blond is now wearing, Nick’s body appearing to have had a negative reaction to the drugs.

“Maybe…just before I woke up,” the blond continues on, turning his head in Sam’s direction, but his eyes are elsewhere. “Though it seems like a dream now — being here with you,” he adds with a rueful smile and Sam’s stomach twists into knots. The blond gives a wistful sigh and continues walking through the room, carefully looking it over before retracing his steps back. “You don’t have to be alone anymore,” he calls out and Sam struggles to keep quiet. His heart is beating in his throat and he can’t manage to breathe through his nose at the moment, opting for keeping a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. Nick — or Lucifer, whoever it may be now — leaves the room with a sigh in dismay.

Sam waits a moment before sliding out, carefully navigating through the debris. Lucifer’s footsteps are far away and he can hear him addressing the darkness. Sam is forced to head back the way he entered, sticking the camcorder out and straining his neck to look through the image displayed on the screen. The coast looks clear. Shuffling out, he glances once more and makes an attempt to find another way out, straining his ears for the prowling Lucifer. 

Carefully pushing debris away from a door to his far right, wincing at how loud it sounds to his ear. He opens the door silently — 

Lucifer is on the other side, equally surprised as Sam at the reveal. Without the camcorder’s night vision before him, he can see those familiar blue eyes. Blood vessels must have ruptured in his right eye, blood having overtaken his sclera while the other appears agitated. “Ah, you are the one. I can feel it,” he murmurs out softly, examining Sam, his hand moving as if to reach out. 

Sam slams the door and runs. 

There is a disgruntled sound, but Sam refuses to look behind him. He blindly races through the ward, becoming further lost in the twists and curves. The walls are littered with strange symbols drawn in blood, and Sam nearly retches when he stumbles upon another display of decapitated bodies. Flies swarm about like a cloud, Sam batting them away as he seeks out the door behind the display. Before Sam can make it to the door, something is grabbing him by the back of his neck, forcefully pulling back. Stumbling and careening to the right, trying to pull out of the hold, he finds himself pinned to the wall. 

“You’re the one,” the blond heaves out, chilled fingers pressing into his throat, roughly stroking his Adam’s apple. Sam only shakes his head, squirming against Lucifer’s body for room. The blond gives Sam a sympathetic look, nodding, “I’m so sorry, Sam. I know this face terrifies you. I…I really am, but Nick here is just an improvisation.” The Winchester’s brows furrow in confusion, staring at the blond who makes a gesture with his free hand to refer to himself. “Plan B. He can barely contain me…” 

“What are you talking about?” Sam pushes the word out of his throat in a panic, blindly hoping that if he can keep Lucifer talking will that stall whatever may come. 

Lucifer seems pleased with the question, more than happy to explain. “Why do you think you ended up here? You’re the one. You’re my vessel. My true vessel,” he repeats and Sam’s not sure whether to agree or not. If he says ‘yes’ would that incite Lucifer to carry through with his plan? Would saying ‘no’ lead to his immediate death and reconfiguration? Sam only squirms against the hold, trying to push his way out so he can run. The blond shakes his head, only pushing more of his body weight against Sam. “I’m sorry. Even if you run, I will find you. You will let me in. I’m sure of it.” 

Sam pauses in his squirming, breathing raggedly with relief at his luck, “You need my consent.”

The blond gives a nod, “Of course. I’m an angel.” 

“ _Then no!_ ” 

Sam wiggles a pinned hand free, taking the opportunity to release himself from Lucifer’s hold. As the blond opens his mouth to explain his cause, Sam jabs his fingers into his right eye, earning a howl in pain. Instantly he’s released, Sam sprinting down the hallway as he listens to the howls turn into an agitated growl. The Winchester hops over a desk in the middle of the hallway, taking a sharp right to create distance between himself and Lucifer. He can hear the sound of something being thrown and furniture scrapping against the floor. The brunette slides into a locker in the room he slipped into, forcing himself into the space. 

“My heart breaks for you,” Lucifer’s voice is somewhere in the room next to him, words calm between hisses in pain. Sam can only imagine he’s busy nursing his eye, moving around only using one. “The weight on your shoulders, what you've done, what you still have to do…” he heaves out, opening the door to the room Sam is in. “It is more than anyone could bear. If there was some other way...but there isn’t…” he moves to the lockers, Sam staring at the figure through the slits on the locker. He opens the metal door next to him, jaw working in irritation. He closes the door brusquely. “I will never lie to you. I will never trick you,” Lucifer promises as he moves to leave the room, Sam closing his eyes, praying for Lucifer to search elsewhere.

Opening his eyes as he hears the sound of a door closing, he chokes on his scream when he sees a blue eye staring through the locker’s slits. 

“But you will say yes to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


End file.
